


Fears

by pterodactyldrops



Series: good as new [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Multiple Pov, Pre-Relationship, Slight Hurt/Comfort, teamwork is best work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterodactyldrops/pseuds/pterodactyldrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not so easy to pin down what they're afraid of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fears

MacCready doesn’t like open spaces.

Molly only notices because he fidgets more and talks less when they’re walking through a wide area with only sky above them. Get the boy in the city and he won’t shut up. Complains constantly about water in his boots, Super Mutants around each corner, and the amount of junk Molly has him carry.

But plant MacCready in the middle of a field and it’s hard to get a word out of him edgewise.

“Something up?” Molly asks, slowing her pace to walk next to him.

“To be honest,” MacCready says, “I’d feel better with a solid roof over my head.”

She thought he’d be scared of collapsed ceilings. Of the temperature dropping lower the further beneath the ground you get. The pitch black only found in tunnels, so dark that you can’t see your hand in front of your face.

Molly thought MacCready would be frightened of the underground, and the sound of rabid ghouls shambling towards you.

But he’s not.

She ignores some trees they can hunker down next to, and a few shacks that have holes in their roofs, until she finds a cave they can settle into for the night.

MacCready stretches wide. His lanky arms and legs take up too much room in the cramped space, and Molly nestles into a small spot next to him.

“This is more like it,” he sighs, arm looping loosely around her waist, closing his eyes. “Reminds me of home.”

 

 

MacCready thought Molly wouldn’t like cramped spaces.

Something about, you know, being stuck in one for almost two centuries, only to wake up just in time to see your spouse murdered, child torn away, still behind glass and metal.

Not a real pleasant memory.

So MacCready’s always careful to give Molly lots of room. He stretches out in small places, making a show of how much space there’s left. He figures if he can roll around without knocking into something, surely a small, round thing like Molly can too.

But despite MacCready’s efforts, Molly always moves in closer to him.

It doesn’t make a lick of sense.

It’s not until he sees her freeze before jumping into a vertibird that he realizes he’s been wrong this whole time. _Typical_.

“You staying or coming, boss?” MacCready asks. Loudly. Trying to shout over the roar of the vertibird’s engine and propellers.

Molly blinks up at him.

“Well?” He holds out his hand to her.

She clenches her jaw. “Coming,” she tells him, gripping him tightly.

Molly doesn’t let go of him until they’re back on solid ground. MacCready’s hand is all cramped up and he has trouble holding his rifle properly.

“Thanks,” she grumbles. “I owe you one.”

“You keeping track?” he teases, massaging his hand.

“Something like that,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes when she presses her fingers into his sore spots.

“Somehow I think you’ll come out on top,” he says.

There’s a faint pink tinge on her cheeks. “You’d be surprised.“


End file.
